Dreams Come True, Not Nightmares
by Emily Hoyt
Summary: Oneshot. It's been a few months since Woodrow Woody Wilson Hoyt was shot. He was supposed to be released. Something's gone wrong. Can Jordan take it?


I own no characters and I pray they finally hook up.

"Dr. Cavanaugh, I'm afraid Detective Hoyt won't be released today. He's just been rushed to the OR. I'll return when I know more. Excuse me."

Jordan sat in the square waiting room armchair. Her knees were clenched together and her arms were hanging over her knees. As she sat waiting for the doctor to return, the only thing that she could process was that she was waiting to begin her life with him. He would ---no--- _could_ not die.

"Dr. Cavanaugh?" It was the doctor from before. He was back with his hands clasping a clipboard. "I'm so sorry, Dr. Cavanaugh. Two minutes in, he just…"

"Doc…he's…he's alright, right? He's not… he didn't…" she babbled incoherently.

"Dr. Cavanaugh, 2 minutes in, he flat lined. We fought for 10 minutes. He's gone."

Jordan fell backwards into the chair. "No…" she whispered, shaking her head. "No." Her eyes flooded with tears as she dropped her head to the crook of her elbow, which rested on the armchair. "NO!" she screamed, as if in pain. She wrapped her arm to shield her face as hot tears streaked her cheeks.

"Or-an…" she heard. The low, muffled voice called her name, but all she could do was chant "No, no, no…" and cry hysterically into her arm.

"Jordan?" it called again, still muffled but louder. She wouldn't answer.

"Jordan? Hey, Jordan?" someone shook her shoulder, rustling her awake.

"No!" she cried out, tears falling down her cheeks unable to control them.

"Jordan! What? Is it your mother again?" Quick as lightening, she wiped and opened her eyes to find herself face to face with a pair of sky blue, worried eyes, a deep frown and the gorgeous dimples that came with the frown.

"Woody?" she mouthed, though her voice box betrayed her. It made no noise. He stared, unmoving, leaning forward from his wheelchair. Her shallow breathing became deeper and deeper as she sat, shaking while another fresh set of tears hit her. They came hard and dead silent.

"Whoa… Jordan, what's wrong?" he asked, furious he was comforting her again.

Even as he thought it, his mind was blown away when she pressed her lips quickly to his. After a second, Woody responded and they eventually parted.

"Jordan, um… what was…" he started, but she silenced him quickly.

"No! Um… later. Let's get you home now," she said. She stood up, wiped her tears and moved behind his chair, wheeling him to her car. It was easy to get him in. He could stand alone, but after a while, it was uncomfortable. He'd been having physical therapy for months. ("They just want me to chill for now." All she could do was chuckle.) The ride, arrival, and getting installed was all done in silence. She put him to bed and walked around to the opposite side, undoing the sheets so he wouldn't feel confined. As she turned to leave, a hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled her down onto the bed.

"Alright, Jordan… it's later now. Now, you almost never cry. Who, Jordan? Who was it?"

She licked her lips before she breathed out a soft "You". Immediately, her eyes welled up with tears and flooded the lips of her lower lids.

"Hey, shh…" he soothed, pulling her into him and enveloping her in his massive muscular arms. The tears that were gently tumbling down her cheeks now cascaded down in rapid succession. "It's alright."

"No, it's not," she said quietly. She sat up straight in his arms and took a deep breath. "I was there… at the hospital to pick you up. The doctor walked in and told me you weren't being released. Something happened and you were back in the OR. I sat there… minutes, maybe hours. The only thing I knew was it supposed to be the day I took you home and stayed with you.

"The doc came back." She took another deep breath. "He, um… he said that you flat lined after two minutes and they worked you for ten. I was so… blank… humph… I'm a doctor! It took him saying you were gone before I realized that you had died. You were gone. I… I collapsed in the chair and I just started crying and screaming 'No!' like a mantra." She bit her lip and gave a half-hearted smile.

"Then," she continued, "um, someone… someone shook me awake and I came face to face with the same gorgeous sky blue eyes and dimpled frown I thought I'd lost forever. And, um…well, you know the rest of it…"

Jordan's breath caught in her throat when she felt a warm hand on her cheek. Her eyes slipped closed as the hand turned her face. She bit her lip again.

"Jordan, open your eyes, please," he asked. She opened them to find her face three inches from Woody's. His hand slipped from her cheek to the nap of her neck and he pulled her head to his, joining them at the lips.

The kiss was not of passion, pity or lust. It was sweet and soft. His warm lips pressed innocently to hers. Hers were soft and sweet, salty and moist from the tears --- the tears she'd shed over him. He suctioned the wet into his mouth. When they finally broke apart after their ten-second kiss, he licked his lips, savoring the tears.

"Jordan… Jordan, look at me." It was a gentle request. As she slid her eyes open, he took her chin with his thumb and index finger. I'm right here. Your dream was exactly that… a dream. I'm fine. Nothing happened. Look."

"I'm still glad I had the dream." She was met with the same frown from the hospital. "When the doctor told me and I felt like I'd just lost all reason for living, I realized I'd gladly die if it meant saving you… I realized just how deeply I really do love you, Detective Woodrow "Woody" Wilson Hoyt."

Jordan smiled teary-eyed as Woody pulled her back to his side. They relaxed against the headboard. Gently, Jordan leaned her cheek on Woody's shoulder, while his chin rested on her head. Together, they fell asleep.

"Eww!" Jordan shrieked. Woody jumped up and rubbed his face. He managed to crack an eye open just as she raced into the adjoining bathroom. Woody swung his legs out of bed. Not even needing a second to gain his balance, he proceeded to the bathroom as his bath's shower nozzle turned on. Craning his head around the frame, he saw Jordan on her knees with her hair in the tub and the hose wetting it down and running her hands through the same spot over and over.

"Woodrow Hoyt, you drooled in my hair!" she squealed. She took the hose and shot a stream of water straight at him. It hit square in the chest.

"Hey!" he yelled. With a towel over her shoulders, she stood up and stared at him. "Jordan! What the hell did you do that for? No fair!" he cried.

"No fair? I had _drool_ in my _hair_, Woody! YOUR drool!" She took the hose and aimed again. Rather than cower, Woody walked towards her.

"Jordan?" She squeezed the hose and it shot at him. He kept walking to her. When he got there, he took her by the waist and tickled her to exactly where he wanted her. Still tickling her with one hand, he reached behind her in the shower stall and turned on the tap for the shower's nozzle.

All that was heard was a shrill scream from Jordan when the double nozzle hit her. She smiled widely at Woody's dripping wet, goofy grin.

"There! He announced triumphantly. "No more drool, Jordan!" he smiled. Jordan rolled her eyes and gently slipped her arms around his neck, his arms circling her waist.

"Just kiss me?" she asked meekly. Woody complied and kissed her briefly before they parted and he turned off the water. They stepped out onto the tiles and laughed together for about 5 minutes before they took towels and dried off.

"Um, Woods?" He turned to look at her, noticing for the first time her pale, wet tank top. "I kind of need something to change into. Have you got, like, sweats or anything?" Woody smiled lightly.

"Here, I'll leave. Go in the bathroom and take those off. I'll put them in the dryer." She dashed in and closed the door. As she peeled off wet layer upon layer, she heard the bedroom door click closed followed by a knock at the hallway door.

"Jordan? Slip your clothes out this door and I'll put them in the dryer." She answered and cracked the door open, sliding her wet clothes outside. "Thank you!" he answered perkily and walked away.

"Woody?" she called lightly, but he kept walking. "WOODY! WHERE'S MY CHANGE?" she hollered desperately.

"YOU'RE IN IT, JORDAN!" he called back. Jordan fell speechless for a second before she resumed her frantic yelling.

"WOODY! GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE! I NEED CLOTHES. I CAN'T WALK AROUND LIKE THIS! I EVEN GAVE YOU MY UNDERCLOTHES!"

"I KNOW!" he called back, laughing and, even though he wasn't in view, smiling like a Cheshire cat.

"WOOOOODDDDY!" she yelled, closing her eyes and jumping lightly up and down.

"Easy! Easy, Jordan!" he said quietly. While she had been freaking out, he had returned and was standing right outside the bathroom door. She immediately closed it back over, but from the goofy  even goofier than normal  grin, she knew he'd seen and she turned scarlet red. "Jordan, your change is on my bed. I big t-shirt and sweat pants so you're comfortable. I'll wait for you in the living room."

He walked out and sat down on the large couch, leaning his head back. Within seconds, Jordan was standing in the hallway, wearing his clothes, and looking absolutely beautiful in his opinion.

"Well, it's 9:00 pm. Do you want to go to bed?" he asked innocently. She smiled and plopped down next to him on the couch, snuggling closely into his open arm.

"In bed, I'll dream. This, however, is a dream come true," she said, smiling widely.

"Hey, be careful with dreams coming true. Aren't you thankful you other one didn't?" he asked, grabbing at his heart mockingly.

"It never could. Dreams come true, not nightmares."


End file.
